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| Photo By Kathi Corder Photography |
I started as a seed so firmly planted in the ground. Drilled, harrowed and rolled...round and round and round. I sat in the soil for what seemed to be ages, through cold, frost, snow and rain...all the winter's stages.
None too soon, springtime came and with it buckets and buckets of never ending rain. With a glimpse of sunshine, a little here and little there...I finally began to sprout, oh the fresh air!
Deep in the soil, hadn't proven to be too much fun, what I had dreamt of all winter was just a little sun. When up I sprouted and finally began to grow, I worked very quickly filling each levee and row.
Days went by and the warmer it was, the farmers started to spray me...just because? There was a reason, so I'm told, the final goal was to get me sold. In order to achieve that premium hay, I guess spraying for weeds was the only way.
Sprinkled and flooded, harrowed and sprayed, my young life was well on it's way. As I grew and matured to a tall grass so fine, I knew my days were numbered so I better watch my behind!
As my brilliant green stems began to head out, I knew the time had come without a doubt. Swathers, rakes, balers and more, they all sent a reminder of what was in store.
I heard the tales of long ago, of my ancestors demise - long and slow. A full season of tender loving care, only to become a bale for some filly's lair.
First came the swather all bright yellow and red, it chopped me down to lie on my final resting bed. In a few days I was dry enough for the rake, it turned me over, ready for the baler to take. Early the next morning from out of the blue, here came the baler - for it was the perfect dew.
After what seemed like what would never end, I was a bale - not alone - but with 3000 friends. Into a block we then were stacked. Ready to be squeezed and load, right on track. Looking back I would have to say, though my life was short it was worth every day.
After all, I went from a seed...to $200 a ton hay!
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